Santa Cruise

by Fern Michaels

  “What’s so funny?” Amy asked.

  “That’s a story for another time. I’m glad everyone is OK. I’ll check back with you later. And try to stay out of trouble.”

  “You too, Dad.” Amy clicked off the phone as another call was coming through. It was Nina.

  “Hey, girl, yes, we got caught. But get this. All four of us are invited to sit at the captain’s table tonight.”

  “Really?” Amy said in amazement.

  “Yes, he said he wanted to keep an eye on us.”

  “I guess that’s a relief, right?” Amy asked.

  “I suppose so. I’m going to call Frankie and leave her a message about dinner. And that we’re not in the hoosegow.”

  “Okey dokey! Enjoy the yoga and spa.”

  “I sure need it,” Nina replied. “Ciao for now.”

  “Ciao,” Amy replied. She wondered when they had all started using that expression. Must be something that had rubbed off from Frankie. She used it all the time.

  Chapter Eighteen

  With the ever-changing colors of the Gulf of Mexico and the clear blue sky, the trip from Key West to Cozumel was beautiful. The sea was calm, the sun was bright, and the ocean air exhilarating as the ship made its way to the next port. From a distance, the passengers could spot several deep-water charter fishing boats. The long-range stationary binoculars were being put to good use.

  Frankie decided to check out the ship’s library before her painting class. It was larger than she had expected. It was about as wide as a store in a strip mall and as deep. But instead of being a pizzeria, or a beauty salon, the walls were lined with light maple shelves. Two bays ran down the middle. It reminded her of a small bookstore. There was a large selection of books on fishing and golf, and the countries and port cities where the ship would dock. It also had a good mix of new novels, anthologies, and current-events titles. She thought that unless one was a speed reader, it would not be easy to finish a novel in a couple of days unless one did nothing else. At least that had always been Frankie’s experience. Even though she worked in publishing, she wasn’t the fastest reader and marveled at the people who could devour a book in a single night.

  After her stroll through the library, she stopped at the small art gallery next to the library. It had a number of cultural pieces from the Caribbean on display. Paintings, sketches, ceramics. Most of the items were for sale. She supposed it was for people who needed that last-minute gift before they disembarked for home. She hoped it would give her some inspiration. There was so much visual stimulus around her. It was difficult to know what to look at next. Then there was New York during the Christmas season, brimming with more lights and sounds than at any other time of the year. No wonder she was having brain fog. She still hadn’t completely shifted into relaxation mode. The ruckus with Amy, Marilyn, and Mr. Blanchard wasn’t a recipe for calm. She was glad that incident was behind them and had ended so well. She could only imagine what had happened to Nina and Rachael at their meeting with the captain. She decided to text Nina. The only time they agreed to use their cell phones was when they were away from each other for several hours. She scrolled down to Nina’s number.

  All OK?

  Peachy. We are dining with the captain. All of us. 6:30.

  Frankie stared down at her phone. What the what?

  Whatever you say. Talk later.

  She continued her thoughts. This should be interesting. And I wonder why I can’t relax. At least they’re not in cruise-ship jail.

  The colors in the art went from vibrant reds, yellows, and orange, to soft, calming blues. She was looking forward to Belize City and the turquoise water. According to the School of Atmospheric Sciences, Belize has the bluest water in the world. A few years ago, Pantone, the company known for creating a standard language of color-matching codes, added Belize Blue to their charts. Staring at a round wall hanging, she began to feel the serene effects of the different shades of blue. That’s when she decided she would work with that color palette. She took another walk outside before heading to her class.

  * * *

  Nina was able to loosen up a bit at yoga. The massage and facial should really do the trick. She needed this downtime in a big way. Not that she didn’t want to be with her friends. It was the show’s being canceled, thinking about her meeting in New York, then getting nabbed by the security cameras. Peace, quiet, except for some New Age music, was the ticket for the day.

  * * *

  Amy was her exuberant self as she entered the culinary kitchen. It was exactly like those on the Food Network cooking shows, only a little smaller. She was one of eight other chefs for the day. Each was handed an apron with a matching hairnet. The apron displayed the ship’s logo. She looked at the others and recognized one of the men from the evening before. His name was Charlie. Amy thought he was nice but not a love connection. She was happy he had put down the same interest as she did, “friends.” At least it wouldn’t be awkward working closely with someone whom you might have inadvertently insulted.

  They were instructed to pick a partner, and they picked each other. Another good thing. This would be a good opportunity to forge a friendship. At least for the next few days. The menu was simple, but mostly the lesson was about preparing the food and plating it. The fun part was the bananas Foster. Each got a lesson in how to flambé a dessert without setting the kitchen on fire. As they became more comfortable with the long-handled lighters and rum mixture, the instructor announced they would be assisting the other servers in dishing up this delicious plate after dinner. Some of the students oohed in appreciation. A few others gasped in fear. Most importantly, they all had to sign a waiver.

  “Not to worry,” the chef said in his French-Caribbean accent. “We will be ready with fire extinguishers. Bravo. You will all do very well.” He nodded and left the room. His assistant instructed the students simply to show up for dinner. The stations would be arranged around the dining room, with small signs with their names on them.

  “Well, all righty,” Amy exclaimed. She washed her hands and tossed her hairnet into the trash. “See you later, Charlie. Thanks for being such a good partner.”

  “Ditto,” he replied.

  * * *

  Henry’s plan for a flash mob dance was going well. The students’ ages ranged from thirty-something to early fifties. The two fifty-year-old women still had their groove on and were keeping up with everyone else. When the class was over, Henry asked Rachael if she would tango with him again. As they danced, he explained more about the foundation. And the more they danced, the more certain Henry was that Rachael would make a great member of their team. And the more time he spent with her, the more intrigued he became.

  * * *

  The afternoon was winding down, and people were returning from their daily activities to their staterooms to change for dinner.

  Nina was disappointed that there wasn’t a message for her from Richard. Maybe he was waiting for her to call him? Maybe he was too busy calling all the other women who wanted to date him. She shrugged off the negative thought. She was feeling pampered and relaxed. She had just lain down on her bed for a moment when the phone rang, and she jolted upright.

  “Hello?”

  “Nina?”

  “Yes.”

  “It’s Richard. How are you this evening?”

  “I’m well. Thank you. I had a battery recharge at the spa. And you?”

  “I played a little tennis. With Rachael, as a matter of fact.”

  “Really?” Nina was surprised.

  “Yes. Really. She’s darn good,” Richard concluded. “Beat the bejeezus outta me.” He cleared his throat. “Would you like to meet for a drink before dinner?”

  “Yes. That would be nice. What did you have in mind?” Nina hoped it wasn’t the Leeward Lounge.

  “The Top Deck Lounge?”

  “Excellent choice.” Nina was relieved she wouldn’t be on display in front of her friends. That would be too weird. “Five thirty?”
/>   “Perfect. See you then.”

  Nina hurriedly knocked on Frankie’s door. “I won’t be meeting you for cocktails.” She gave Frankie a sly look.

  “He called?” Frankie was almost shrieking.

  “Shh . . . yes. Drinks. Five thirty.”

  “I wonder what he’s doing for dinner,” Frankie pondered.

  “One step at a time. That will give us almost an hour to chat. We’ll see how it goes.”

  Frankie high-fived her. “I’ll let everyone else know.”

  “Wish me luck,” Nina said over her shoulder.

  “Good luck. But I don’t think you’ll need it.” Frankie waved as she shut the door.

  Frankie was happy. Nina was glowing. Maybe it was from the facial, but Nina’s joy was evident. Now Frankie had to decide what to wear for dinner. Captain’s table. Formal? Semiformal? It better be the latter. She didn’t have anything that she would consider formal. She had already worn the black sheath the night before, so that was out of the question. She pulled on a white sleeveless shirt with a stand-up collar. Black capri pants and sandals with a chunk heel. Frankie was glad she had bought the sea-glass necklace with the matching bracelet and earrings when they were in Key West. She pulled her hair back in a chignon, leaving just a few wisps of hair to make it look less severe. A small clutch purse finished off her outfit. Chic and elegant would have to do.

  Peter was leaving his stateroom at the same time. “Peter. Where have you been? Are you avoiding us?” Frankie ribbed him.

  He seemed a little sheepish. “No. Not at all.” He lowered his voice. “I think I’ve met someone.”

  “What do you mean you think you’ve met someone? Did you meet someone or didn’t you?” Frankie kept razzing him.

  “OK, Miss Bossy Pants, I met a woman, and we’ve been spending time together.”

  “That’s great, Peter. How did you meet? I could use some pointers.”

  “She’s actually the ship’s photographer. Well, one of them.”

  “Really?” They continued walking together.

  “Yes. She’s working on her master’s degree in photojournalism and doing this during the holiday break as part of a course in candid photography.”

  “They’re pretty obvious about it, no?” Frankie wondered.

  “That’s just it. She’s the stealth photographer. You’re not supposed to notice her.”

  “So how did you manage to notice her?”

  “Exactly. I noticed her taking photos of other people when they weren’t looking. She caught me staring at her and put her fingers on her lips, telling me to keep quiet. I whispered that she would have to have a drink with me.”

  “Aren’t you the clever one? So how is this working while she’s working?”

  “I’m the decoy. I distract people.”

  “Covert operations, eh?” Frankie hit the elevator button.

  “One could say. But we’re having a hoot doing it.”

  “I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself. But now I know that if I see you, I’d better say ‘cheese’!”

  “Oh no. Please don’t.”

  “Of course I won’t.” Frankie patted his shoulder. “You have all the fun you can. That’s why we’re here.”

  When the elevator door opened, Frankie looked up to see if Rachael and Nina’s handiwork was still hanging about. Barely. It looked as if someone had tried to pull it down, without much success. Frankie shook her head and pointed up. “Rachael and Nina. The mistletoe fairies.”

  “Cute.” Peter snickered. “You ladies are quite funny.”

  “Oh, that we are.” The elevator stopped at the floor for the main dining room.

  “See you later,” Peter called out.

  “Not if I see you first.” Frankie flashed a big bright smile.

  On her way to the Leeward Lounge, she spotted the drooping mistletoe over the railing of the main staircase banister. She shook her head and smiled.

  * * *

  Amy and Rachael were already seated in a cozy arrangement of club chairs and a round cocktail table near the railing. It was a covered, open-air lounge with a balcony that overlooked the deck below and the ocean. Frankie gave her drink order to the waitress as she passed by.

  “So, ladies. Here we are. How was everyone’s day?”

  They chatted up a storm, talking about Amy’s ability to flambé without starting a blaze, Rachael’s “mystery” dance class and her tennis game, where she had beaten the pants off Richard. Frankie told them about her Ode au Bleu painting, an abstract with dozens of shades of blue. “You’ll see it tomorrow. They’re putting them on display in the gallery.”

  “Well, aren’t you fancy?” Rachael said.

  “Hey, and tonight I’m going to be part of the dessert display,” Amy cooed. “They’re letting us help out with preparing the bananas Foster. They need several stations to accommodate all the guests, and we’re going to help.” Amy swayed her shoulders in rhythm with her words.

  Rachael tried to suppress her smile. “You know I can’t tell you what I’m up to.”

  “Yeah. Yeah,” Frankie muttered. “It’s a big surprise.” Frankie used her arms for illustration. “We get it.”

  Amy leaned in toward the center of the table. “I wonder how Nina is doing.”

  “Don’t you even think about it.” Frankie was mid-sip when she spoke from behind her martini glass.

  “Oh no. I wouldn’t dream of it,” Amy said demurely.

  “As if.” Frankie placed her drink on the table and motioned for the checks. On their way to the main dining room, Frankie spotted a few more bunches of greenery, courtesy of Rachael and Nina. Each time, she elbowed the women.

  The three entered the main dining room, which was replete with holiday glitter, stars, and more poinsettias arranged to look like trees. Frankie imagined there must be a few thousand of them on board. There were also traditional Christmas trees lining the room, but instead of traditional ornaments, the trees were decorated with beautiful blooms of gardenias. Hundreds of them. If this was how they decorated for the captain’s dinner, New Year’s Eve would be magnificent. Several different theme parties were planned on different decks. Five in total, and a fireworks display was scheduled for the stroke of midnight.

  The maître d’ checked the book and saw they were to be seated at the captain’s table. He nodded and told her to follow him. Nina counted eight chairs at the table. Two were occupied by the captain and the first officer, also known as the first mate.

  “Good evening, gentlemen.” Frankie extended her hand. “Frankie Cappella. Thank you so much for inviting me and my hooligan friends. I heard they created a bit of a stir.” The captain stood, as did the first mate.

  “Good evening. I’m Captain Adrian Sideris, and this is my first mate, Kenzo Tanaka.”

  Frankie shook both their hands. “Nice to meet you.”

  “Yes, they did create a bit of a stir, but I appreciated their spirit of the season, although we don’t encourage passengers to take matters into their own hands.” He directed his comments to Amy.

  “It was really all in good fun.” Frankie added another act of contrition to the list.

  “I’m Rachael Newmark. Yes, please excuse my companions’ behavior.” She smiled, knowing that she would also be involved in a “passenger surprise.”

  Kenzo held out Frankie’s chair. “Tell me, if we have the captain and the first officer at our table, who is steering the ship?” Frankie asked coyly.

  Both chuckled. “We get that question all the time.” The captain explained that there was an entire crew of highly skilled personnel watching over the ship’s passage. “You can rest assured, we are in good hands.” The men assisted the other two women with their chairs.

  “Have you been to our library yet?” Kenzo asked.

  “We would love to get your opinion or suggestions,” Captain Sideris commented.

  “I found it to be a very good mix of fiction and nonfiction. I was impressed by the variety and the size.”
Frankie was being her most charming. She turned to the first mate, Kenzo. “That means sea in Japanese, am I right?”

  “Very impressive,” Kenzo responded with surprise. “I was aptly named.”

  Frankie noticed that he had no discernible accent, so she asked, “Where are you from originally?”

  “San Francisco,” he reported.

  She turned to the captain. “And, sir, do I detect a slight Greek accent?”

  “Indeed. We grew up on the water.”

  Rachael and Amy gave short dissertations on what they do and where they live, sparking a conversation about Henry Dugan’s Let’s Dance Foundation.

  Frankie glanced in the direction of the tables on the far wall. “The room is stunning. Are those the tables for the silent auction?”

  “Yes. Please peruse the items. They include gift cards for the duty-free shop, the gift shops on board and in the ports, and a number of excursions. Some of them are worth a good bit of money. A helicopter ride over the Great Blue Hole costs over eight hundred dollars.”

  “Show me where that table is.” Amy sprung out of her seat.

  Frankie continued to converse with the two officers. “I think it’s fantastic. There is an organization called SPUR, Special People United to Ride, in the area where I grew up. It’s therapeutic horseback riding for people with special needs.”

  “It’s wonderful to have such organizations. Too often, they depend completely on donations and volunteers,” Kenzo observed.

  “I’m going to see what Amy is up to and look for something I’d enjoy,” Frankie said. “If you’ll excuse me.” Captain Sideris and Kenzo stood as she left the table.

  “I see we are still missing one of your hooligans,” the captain noted.

  Rachael didn’t want to invade Nina’s privacy. “She should be joining us shortly. I see there are two more seats.”

  “Richard Cooper and Peter Sullivan,” the captain informed her.

  “Oh my goodness. I played tennis with Richard today, and Peter is across the hall from us.”

  “I trust you haven’t corrupted them?” Captain Sideris smiled.

  “Maybe just a little.” Rachael was being flirty. “I think I’ll check out what prizes I want to win. Be right back.”